


"There's some one-armed bandit on the roof..."

by Majinie



Series: Prompts! [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: ALL the Avengers are in trouble, I hate doing tags, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Steve is in trouble, poor steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 10:13:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3323714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majinie/pseuds/Majinie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers are tired, outnumbered, and in trouble. But someone's there to save the day - just not in the mood to celebrate...</p>
            </blockquote>





	"There's some one-armed bandit on the roof..."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my awesome beta Myrsky for making this readible! (Does that word exist? Oh god, can I do ONE sentence without you?) :D  
> The pic that inspired this is in the end notes. Didn't want to spoiler more than the title already does ;)

The Avengers had come across a lot of bad situations. They had grown a team and it became easier once they learned to shield each other's weaknesses and take advantage of their strengths, but, this time, it didn't seem to be enough.

They were outnumbered, not that this was unusual, but they were _highly_ outnumbered. And this didn't look good at all. Even the Hulk was worn out and Thor was in Asgard to attend whatever he had to do up there.

“Hawkeye, how's the situation up there?”, Steve asked though the comm. He sounded out of breath.

“Shitty”, the archer growled while stabbing an enemy that had made his way to his rooftop with his arrow. Their attackers were human for once, at least, but they still hadn't found out where they were from and why there were so god damn many of them. “Guys just keep coming. Tasha, behind you.” He saw the assassin spinning around down at the street and skilfully taking out the attacker who had sneaked up on her.

For anybody else it would have looked great, but Clint knew her well enough to recognize she was tired. Hell, if she would be fine, he wouldn't have had to warn her, and the same went for every other Avenger.

The archer turned his attention towards another part of the city, taking out as much enemies as he could (which were a lot, but apparently still not enough). His fingers hurt, and that said something because he was, first, wearing gloves and, second, used to shoot a lot. This was just very bad, plus he was running out of arrows.

“Suit power at 20%”, Tony piped up. “We need to get rid of those, seriously. I'm not gonna last much longer.”

“Hate to admit, but he's right”, Natasha added. She was panting and her voice sounded strained. Clint turned to get a look at her again and saw his fellow agent struggle with a particularly stubborn attacker while two others were approaching from behind. He opened his mouth to warn her, but before he could even get a word out the first stumbled and fell, followed short by his comrade.

The assassin frowned. He barely heard the Captain's “Keep it up, I think they're getting fewer”. That had fallen by a bullet, and nobody but Natasha used bullets. And she had clearly turned his back to the guy.

Careful not to lose sight of the actions on the street, he looked around. The shots had been fired from somewhere high up, probably another roof, so – ah.

“Gotcha”, he mumbled. Just a few roofs away from his, there was someone lying flat on his stomach. The man was using a gun, a sniper, and was firing at a high pace, each bullet hitting its target.

Slowly, shooting an arrow now and then, he made his way to the other rooftop. As great as it looked, he needed to find out whether that guy was a threat or really just trying to help. If it was the latter, he did an awesome job.

Clint jumped over to the roof the stranger was occupying, an arrow on the bow string. The comm was turned off. For a few seconds, he watched him. He was focussed, his brown hair fell into his face in loose strands, hiding a bit of the dark circles under his eyes and now, taking a closer look, the archer noticed that his left arm was made of metal.

“Hey”, he shouted. The guy seemed to have noticed him already, he didn't even bother to turn around. “Care to tell me what you're doing up here?”

“What does it look like?”, the sniper responded. “I'm having Roger's stupid back and I think that's your task, so why are you standing around there?” Uh, a sassy one.

“Fine then”, Clint mumbled, eyeing the other. He was still a bit suspicious, pretty much actually, but that guy was turning the tide here. He wasn't going to look the gift horse in the mouth, not now at least. But he wouldn't keep it to himself either.

Turning his ear piece on again, he informed: “Hey Cap, there's some one-armed bandit up here who says he wants to give you some of your stupid back, does that mean anything to you?” He saw the blue-clad figure of Steve spinning around down on the street, apparently searching for him, but he quickly got occupied again with another bunch of enemies. Suddenly, they started to fall one by one, each one precisely hit. The archer glanced at the sniper beside him who stared down with a stern, determined expression.

“Cap, can you hear me?”, he asked over the comm, seeing the Captain running towards them. To his left and right, the attackers fell, some taken out by his shield, others by the bullets of the stranger, and Clint did his best to help a little, too.

“Captain America, do you copy?”, he demanded, more firmly now.

“Leave him”, Natasha ordered. “It's important to him.”

“I hate not knowing things”, Clint growled. “'kay, aside from that, I don't see any new ones coming. I think we did it – right?”

“Seems so”, Tony confirmed. “I'm mostly done here, too. They can't have endless resources after all.”

Meanwhile, the Captain had reached the building and disappeared out of view. But the archer saw something else.

“I think you can take care of the rest on your own”, the sniper stated, standing up and fiddling around with his gun. He looked at Clint with eyes that looked like a cold, foggy morning sky. “Next time, you better watch out for Rogers.” With these words he turned around and attempted to leave, but at that very moment the door on the rooftop burst open and Steve stumbled out. He was bruised and bloody, his suit was torn in many places and somehow he had lost his helmet so his blonde, tousled hair was visible.

“Bucky, don't!”, he cried out, dropping the shield carelessly and running over to the other.

“And now, this is happening”, the stranger growled, spun around and jumped over to the next roof. Clint stood there for a second, watching Steve chase after the brunette, and decided he would not interfere. This looked like something he wouldn't understand.

“Guys, we're doing the rest here and going back”, he declared. “Steve, I trust you to take care of yourself, but the ear piece stays in for emergencies, got it? And I want an answer this time.”

He saw the Captain raising a hand in salute while he ran for the stranger, heard a faint “Thanks” and decided that would be the best he'd get. Grabbing another arrow, he announced: “Okay, let's clean up here and then we're going to get some pizza 'cause I'm starving.” Let Steve handle his own business. He was an adult after all.

 

~*~

 

Well, yes, Steve was an adult. But he was also exhausted and injured from a fight that had lasted hours, and Bucky didn't seem the least bit of that. But the super soldier was determined not to give up.

“Bucky!”, he yelled while jumping over another edge between two buildings. “Bucky, stop, please!” He was running short of breath and his lungs were burning, but like hell he was just going to let this chance slip. “Bucky!”

The brunette crossed the gap between two roofs again and Steve went after him, of course, and he knew in the moment he pushed himself off from the edge that he wouldn't make it. He reached for the other building, giving a small cry of shock, felt his fingertips brushing against the concrete, but not close enough to grasp it, and then he fell, he fell and--

He didn't fall. Not that much at least.

A hard pull jolted through his body as his wrist was grabbed by a cold metal hand, and he hit the wall with the full momentum of his fall. The impact forced the air out of his lungs and he gasped, both in pain and surprise, and looked up to see Bucky.

The other's jaw was clenched and Steve heard the gun which he had apparently let go hit the ground several storeys down. Bucky was holding onto the edge of the building with his good hand so he must have caught the blonde literally in the last moment.

“You idiot”, he cursed through gritted teeth. “You call yourself a soldier?” With a strained huff he flung Steve up onto the roof (oh, superhuman strength was so great sometimes) and the blonde immediately grabbed his hand as soon as he had stabilized himself a little and pulled the brunette up forcefully.

Bucky was on his feet again in a matter of seconds and turned around.

“Buck, please don't”, Steve begged. He felt on the verge of tears, his voice wavering and trembling, just like his whole body. He had shifted himself onto his hands and knees, shivering with exhaustion, and was fairly sure he wouldn't manage another step even if he wanted to. “Please stop running from me.” Despite his condition he forced himself to stand up, unstable. It wouldn't be the first time he passed his limits.

Bucky turned again, reluctantly, and for the first time he looked his former friend right into the eyes. Steve stumbled towards him.

“Don't get closer”, he warned lowly. Steve didn't listen. Of course he didn't. He kept coming closer until he was just an arm's length away, his pleading blue eyes locked with Bucky's, and Bucky raised his metal arm, lashed out and smacked him with the back of his hand.

The impact sent the blonde flying, he hit the ground with a thud and he rolled over the roof, not quite to its edge, but pretty damn close, and he barely heard the other's “I told you to stay away!”. A burning tear made its way down his cheek, not because of the pain, but because of the feeling of being completely lost.

“Bucky, please don't”, he begged. This time, he didn't even bother to get to his feet again. He stared at the black leather boots that were standing some distance away, his vision blurred with tears. “I lost you twice already, I can't stand a third time. You can't do this to me, Bucky.”

“So this is all about you, Rogers?”, the winter soldier asked with a voice cold as ice. Steve saw the black boots moving towards him.

“That's not what I was saying”, he defended himself weakly.

“Oh, but it was”, Bucky responded. “ _I lost you, Bucky_ ”, he mimicked, sounding bitter and mocking at the same time. “ _Don't do this to me, Bucky_. Did you ever think about the things that happened to _me_ while you were having your little icy nap time? Ever thought this might be about me?”

“Of course I did!” Ignoring his aching body, Steve used his arms to steady himself, not standing up, but shifting a little so he was propped up on his elbows. His shoulder felt as though it was sprained, he was bleeding out of several injuries, three heavier ones at his head, and had cuts and bruises all over. If Bucky decided to kill him now, he wouldn't be able to defend himself. He wasn't sure he would want to. “How could I not? Of course I cared, you know I--”

“That's enough!”, the brunette interrupted. “Is it so difficult to comprehend that I'm not the one you knew anymore, Rogers?” The black boots had come to a hold in front of Steve's face and the soldier didn't dare to raise his glance as he replied.

“It is.” He had never been one that cared too much about pride and dignity, but the way his voice wavered still embarrassed Steve. “Bucky, you are a part of my life, how--”

“Wrong”, the winter soldier interrupted. “I am part of your _past_.”

“I _live_ in the past, Bucky!”, the blonde yelled. “How can't you get this?! I never caught up with this century, and I never will completely. But I don't hold on to you because you're a part of what I knew and what I understood or because you're familiar, Buck”, and now he _did_ raise his eyes to lock with the other's, “but because I promised. Remember? You _can't_ tell me you don't remember. To the end of the line, Bucky.”

At that, the other winced and his right, his good hand clenched into a trembling fist. He seemed to have trouble breathing suddenly as he forced out a sharp: “Stop it.”

“I won't. I'm a stubborn idiot, did you forget that, too?”

“ _Stop it!_ ” Bucky pressed his hands to his ears, shaking his head, and took a few steps backwards.

“I won't”, Steve repeated, loud and clear. “We can fix this, Bucky, we can fix all of this. This whole mess we got into, we can fix it. Come with me, and we can fix it, we--”

The winter soldier barked out a short laugh and interjected: “Yeah, wait a moment. When did we get from _Please don't leave me_ to _Join the Avengers_?”

“I don't insist on you joining the Avengers, I just want you to come with me so we can help you, Buck!”, the soldier responded. It was getting difficult to keep himself in his half-upright position and his vision was starting to darken. He hadn't felt this bad since his battle with Bucky on the helicarrier four months ago after which he had lost his consciousness and it seemed like he was going to pass out, again, and then Bucky was going to be gone again, and he wouldn't be able to stand it, because three times were about three times too much and...

“Steve.”

He gasped and his eyes snapped open. He hadn't even noticed he had squeezed them shut while panicking, and he couldn't remember burying his face in his hands. But more important, Bucky had called him Steve.

“Steve, snap out of it. Calm down.”

He looked up to see the other crouched beside him and something was different from just seconds before, something had snapped and made him less winter soldier and more Bucky, something that had led to him starting to console Steve. These pale eyes showed confusion, trouble, insecurity, but beyond that a sincerity that hadn't been there before.

“Don't leave again”, Steve pleaded faintly, and then he finally passed out.

 

~*~

 

“...so your friend dropped you at the doorstep, quite literally, and hightailed it”, Tony finished. Steve slumped back into the pillow with a sigh. He had woken up in the infirmary after he had been out for almost a whole day (which was _pretty_ long for him) and learned that Bucky had carried him through half the city to StarkTower and had – yeah, well, 'dropped him at the doorstep', as Tony put it.

“You okay, Cap?”, Clint asked. “Should I have shot him?”

“Hell no!”, Steve blurted out, maybe a little too fast. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “I mean, no. Not necessary. I can handle him. He's just, um, having some issues. Sometimes. Often, actually, I think. I mean I'm not quite sure, but--”

“It's okay, Steve”, Natasha soothed him. “I'm sure he will show up again. I mean, he didn't sound too averse at the end, right?”

“Ri – wait.” The soldier frowned. “How would you know?”

Clint chuckled and answered the question instead of his fellow assassin: “I made you leave the ear piece in, remember?” Steve sucked in a deep breath.

“So... you've all been listening... the whole time?”, he clarified slowly which Tony commented with an excited nod. Groaning, the soldier pulled the blanket over his head. This was embarrassing. They had heard him beg, had heard him weak and vulnerable, in all the ways a team leader wasn't supposed to be.

“Cap?” Tony poked him through the blanket. “You alive?”

“That was my rib”, Steve told him. “It would be generous if you wouldn't poke it because it hurts. And no, I'm not going to get out again. I'll much rather dig a hole somewhere far away and hope you don't find me.”

“Why?”, Bruce piped up for the first time. He was somewhere behind the soldier, judging by his voice.

“Because that's awkward as hell.”

“Hey, nobody's going to reproach you that you wanted to get your buddy back”, Tony stated and tugged the blanket down. Steve kept his glare glued to the ceiling, although he didn't feel as uncomfortable as he thought he would. He knew his team, and he knew he didn't really have to be ashamed, but it was embarrassing nonetheless. “I won't say I'm not going to tease you with it though”, the engineer added.

 

~*~

 

Bruce ordered Steve to spend at least two more days at the infirmary. Seeing that his injuries were worse than they had been in a long time, he didn't refuse.

At some point during the second night, the soldier was staring at the ceiling. He wasn't quite sure what had woken him up and was still in a state between dreaming and waking when he noticed he was not alone.

Slowly he turned his head, smiled weakly, and muttered: “I'm not even going to ask how you got in.” Bucky chuckled lowly and agreed: “Maybe that's for the best.” He was standing beside the bed and looking at Steve and really, he would have seemed perfectly fine for someone not knowing him. He looked actually better than just days before, a hint of his usual sarcasm had been in his previous comment, but the way he stood there, slightly awkward, hands in the pockets of his black sweater – he was wearing casual clothes – told his friend he was not.

Silence stretched out between them for what felt like eternity, each one waiting for the other to break it but not finding words to do so himself.

“I don't know what to do”, Bucky blurted out eventually. “Sometimes, I see things and there are memories coming back, and then I have that feeling like I should know something and it's on the tip of my tongue but I can't get a hold of it, and the worst is when”, he took a shaky breath and rose his metal hand slightly to stare at it, “something triggers memories from the time with HYDRA and I remember what I did when they sent me out on mission and I feel so disgusted with myself...”

“Shh, Buck”, Steve interrupted. “Calm down.” Shouldn't this be the other way round? He had always been on the receiving end when it came to reassuring and consoling. Bucky had always been the confident and strong one back then. “I told you we can fix this, right?” But on the other hand, at that time he had _not_ been brainwashed over and over again and been forced to murder people.

The winter soldier breathed in and out slowly and muttered: “Sorry, didn't mean to freak out. It's just so... confusing.” Steve extended his arm to lightly brush the other's hand – the good one – and asked cautiously: “Think you can, you know, stay the night?”

“It's not like there was some girl splayed on a couch in a living room waiting for me, so – yes, I think I just might take that offer”, Bucky replied with the smallest hint of a smile. The blonde beamed at him.

“Great. You know, I think you would be getting along with Tony. You'd probably be doing competitions 'bout who gets most girls at one evening”, he mused and felt himself drifting off to sleep again. “But he'd pester you about how he could do a much better arm and talk science no ordinary human understands.”

“I'm no ordinary human”, Bucky reminded and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Can you stay awake a little longer? Just three minutes.” Steve gave a sleepy nod. “I need to ask you something.”

“Go ahead”, the soldier mumbled.

“I still don't remember that much, so... how exactly were we standing to each other?” The question was reluctant and very carefully phrased, the meaning behind it too subtle for Steve's foggy mind to catch up to.

“What do you mean?”, he muttered. Bucky stared out of the window and apparently tried to find the right thing to say.

“Have we been dating?”, he eventually asked. Steve stared at him wide-eyed, at a loss for words, and the brunette looked down at his expression. Then something seemed to dawn him and he sucked in a deep breath. “I never confessed to you, right? It's not that I _forgot_... I never _did_ it, right? ” Steve nodded slowly and Bucky groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Shit. Then please, at least tell me I never screwed a confession up that bad.” Despite the situation, that actually drew a chuckle from the blonde.

“I don't think you did”, he replied while his sleepy brain still tried to wrap around what it just had learned. “You were always good with the girls. But...” He extended an arm, grabbing the other by his sweater to pull him down. Bucky used his forearms to steady himself on either side of the other's head so he didn't fall on top of him with his full weight, his breath ghosting over Steve's face as he looked at him in confusion, surprise and an unspoken question. “... I think I'm fine with that”, Steve finished his sentence.

That was all the permission Bucky had needed to lean in and brush his lips against the blonde's, and seeing that he returned the kiss, he ceased holding back.

 

~*~

 

The next morning at about 9am, the doors to the infirmary were flung open and the Avengers entered the room all at once, carrying a surprise breakfast for Steve they had prepared so the whole team could eat together. They froze at the doorstep, staring at the image in front of them.

Steve was still in his bed, sound asleep in the arms of the sniper that had basically saved them a few days ago, both cuddled up and seemingly very content.

After a short silence, stretching about half a minute, Tony cleared his throat and said: “Well, let's just thank god they're dressed, right?”

 

**Author's Note:**

> https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/ce/5e/ca/ce5eca097988a6dc6f0c3be6cf6d288b.jpg  
> THIS is what made me do this, although I think I went a little further than suggested. I didn't mean to. It happened.  
> Please leave a comment and tell me what you thought, I love comments from nice people ^.^


End file.
